


A Bloom of Love

by SleepySnoozan



Category: Harvest Moon: Animal Parade
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 16:28:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13861632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepySnoozan/pseuds/SleepySnoozan
Summary: Toby thinks about the new rancher who moved in at the beginning of Spring and realizes that he's fallen for them.





	A Bloom of Love

Above the ocean the canvas of the sky was swathed in dark pastels. The violet, rose, and orange all blended together on the horizon. Further up in the darkening sky, a few small specks of white glimmered from the unimaginable vastness of the beyond. The calm salt water was a darker hue than its counterpart, with gentle ripples keeping it from being reflective. The pastels would occasionally show on the surface giving off a sheen similar to fresh paint. The last vestiges of light caused the coarse, pale sand to glint and twinkle. The lukewarm blue would rush up and swallow as much of the ground as it could, only to release it from its wet grasp a few moments later. Another bearer of light seemed to ease out of slumber as its surroundings darkened. A beam of softened yellow washed over the ocean in smooth, rhythmic cycles. Its purpose was not to illuminate, but to gently remind the sea-faring world of its presence.

A calm breath of air carried the salty brine of the ocean to the shore. Other subtle notes of fragrance could be captured, stolen from the surrounding land. The freshness of growth, the perfumes of plants, and the comforts of earth.

A stray gull spoke as it cut through the sky, silhouetted by the darkening painting. The ocean offered simple accents in the form of quiet crashes as it reconnected with itself. The nocturnal insects stirred, announcing their presence to those who noticed. Sometimes a small chime would join from what felt like the very land itself, a happy exclamation of purity and restoration, reminiscent of a long forgotten time.

The last part of the scene was taking in all the rest. The living painting playing out there, freely giving its calm peaceful feelings to it. The being was still, as if trying not to disturb the beauty. It was simply existing there, perfectly at home on the shore. Completely alone while completely surrounded.

* * *

He sat next to the ocean on the sand that cradled his form. His feet were half buried, wooden sandals lay off to the side where they’d been slipped out of. On the other side rested his favorite, trusted fishing pole. The loose fitting fabric around his legs flapped lightly in the air’s subtle breaths. The slightly-too-large jacket alternated from a gentle billow to an easy drape. A straw hat rested on his back, holding the jacket down with its comforting weight. Stray wisps of short starlight colored hair danced around his head. Enchanted green eyes gazed out at the scene in a half-lidded state. His aura gave off a lazy, slumbering state, deceptively hiding his whirring thoughts.

They weren’t unpleasant, there was just a lot worth considering lately. Specifically after the arrival of the new rancher. They seemed like an ordinary person, same as any other resident. And yet, strange events had been occurring. His mind wouldn’t allow it to be coincidence. There was too much change in these last two seasons. The land was altering...to a better state. Bells that had been silent for years were ringing, as if they’d been rejuvenated in a magical way. These bells brought with them the life and vigor that had almost been forgotten.

First was the red bell. The fire had lost its power seemingly ages ago, and was a mere flicker in comparison. Cooking was difficult and smelting was impossible, which left the chefs and miners with tied hands. A couple weeks after the rancher moved in a melody came from the mine. This melody invigorated the weak flames back to their old glory. The happiness that erupted through people was palpable. Their dwindling hope rekindled with the fire. The land had started the slow process of regenerating.

The yellow bell sounded a few weeks later, near the end of spring. Before it rang, another farm, the only other real crop farm besides the new rancher’s, was days away from moving on. Their children had both left months ago to try to find seeds that would tolerate the conditions. The soil had degenerated through the years, producing one poor crop after the next. Fertility of the earth was waning with each passing season. Then one day, beautiful chiming rang from the farm’s field. It reverberated through the ground causing all the plants to burst with new growth. The farmers wept tears of relief and their children returned. Optimistic thoughts poked their way into the minds of all the villagers. The land was recovering in leaps and bounds.

The blue bell was the third. Its connection to the water was town lore. For many seasons the water had been losing its strength. With its weak will to flow, the fish were becoming sparse. His favorite activity had become more difficult in the trickling streams and unenthusiastic ocean. The sweet tune of the bell was lost, but a diligent child and crafty young woman made an apparatus in order to remember it. The new rancher sought out the key to the cave holding the bell and the items to complete the project. That was when he first suspected their involvement with reviving the land. They came by often, helping catch the necessary fish and exploring the cave for a rare black pearl. One day, they brought all the parts to the puzzle. From their rucksack they placed the perfect ebony pearl, five fish, and one duck egg in the proper places. His cousin, the diligent child, and his childhood peer, the crafty young woman, assembled and watched the magic happen. He had been fishing on the dock, with little success, when he heard the familiar sound of a forgotten bell. The melodious ring altered the world he loved. Waves crashed joyously and streams rushed to meet the ocean. Energy coursed through every drop of water and lent to powering the lighthouse. Its shining beacon led the wayward ship full of residents back home. They disembarked to a land that was better than it had been in a long time. Elated faces washed over the town and hope swelled. Three of five cherished bells had been restored and all within a season and a half of a new rancher’s start.

He and the rancher became friends during the first half of summer. He had thought they were pleasant, but had greatly underestimated them. The rancher was friendly to all they met and offered to help with even the most trivial tasks. Warmth and sunshine surrounded them and every interaction instilled good feelings. The kindness and care they put into their actions and gifts. He enjoyed every moment they were together. And when the rancher became busy and the visits became fewer after the blue bell had rung, he’d finally realized what had happened.

He was falling in love.

* * *

“Did you have to sneak out?” a playful female voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Huh? Wha-“ he stumbles over his words while trying to process the question. “N-no. I-I didn’t sneak out,” he manages, his voice quieting.

The female giggles lightly. “Would you mind some company? Though I think I missed the best part,” a light, soft tone of voice. He searches for what she means and sees to the west that the pastels have left only a dark violet in their passing. He smiles and warmly replies, “Of course not.”

He continues looking to the west while she lowers herself into a sitting position, just so he can see her in his peripheral vision without turning to her. She sits on his left, slightly behind him. Her rucksack is shucked off to her left. His neglected fishing pole creates a curved line between them.

“Anything good?” she nods to his pole and he shakes his head. “I haven’t really been fishing this evening,” he admits almost sheepishly. “Oh,” the short word indicates her surprise and she continues, “What were you doing?”

He responds reflexively, “Thinking.” And turns to look in front of him. Conversationally she asks, “Thinking about what?”

He takes a breath to answer and immediately shuts his mouth. He was about to say _“you”_ without any filter. A burning sensation erupts across his cheeks as a blush materializes. The sudden crimson dominating his pale features is hidden in the dark and he is thankful, for a moment. Unfortunately he splutters out “Oh, uh, well, y’know, just like, things and the land and the bells and stuff like that.” His nervous reaction might as well have been visible, his mind chastises. He coughs and deliberately looks more to the right, trying to corral his thoughts away from embarrassing topics.

“Ah,” she sounds a little...melancholy. There’s a pause and the waves crash lightly to fill the silence. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” sad feelings permeate her sentence. His heart clenches at the thought of making her sad and he feels like he should explain. He hesitates, but lets the words come out.

“You’re not! I was just thinking about how much has changed in these last two seasons. The fire is back, the soil is healthy, and the ocean,” his voice heavy with affection, “the ocean is better than it has been in _years_. I hadn’t really taken much time to think about it lately, but everything that had slowly deteriorated is bounding back to what it used to be. It’s simply astounding to think about.” He turns to face her and adds, “And I’m beginning to think you have something to do with it.”

He’s glad he turned to her because her reaction is telling. She protests “Wha- That’s ridiculous! I’m just a rancher, how could I-“ she stops and drops her head into her knees, hiding her face. He smiles fondly when she continues, her voice muffled. “It’s just...a coincidence,” she unconvincingly states.

“Sure,” his smile can be heard and she peeks over her knees at him. The smile he was wearing falls and a blush blankets his face again when “ _so cute_ " flutters through his mind. He turns his head back to the waves to avoid eye contact with his crush.

She clears her throat a bit and nervously says, “Can you believe it’s almost fall already? I’ll be happy that cooler days are ahead. Summer was all sweltering and hot.” He grins again at the abrupt subject change and her light disgust she accented the last sentence with. He’s happy for cooler days too. Sticky summer days make him feel lethargic.

“Oh, hey! I almost forgot,” he hears her rummage around in her rucksack “Here! This is for you.” He turns back to her and his eyes drift from her beaming face to her outstretched hands. She’s holding a purple flower. His mouth falls open with a barely audible “Cosmo.” He gingerly grasps the offering. “It’s the first one of the season,” she adds as he brings it to his nose to take in its fragrance. He closes his eyes to allow his mind to be enveloped by the smell of his favorite flower. Had he told her that? “How did you-“ he starts, but she answers before the question has been fully asked. “At the Flower Festival you mentioned it,” she looks away and rubs the back of her head. He imagines her cheeks may be dusted with pink, but honestly can’t see in the dark blue that has settled around them. “And you...remembered?” he asks in a private tone. The Flower Festival was the second week she had been here. Her first festival. Before that they had barely exchanged introductions.

“Yes,” her shy reply as she looks out at the watery expanse before them. She looks so serene. This woman who is constantly working, restoring the land, caring for animals, tending to crops, helping neighbors, and always...busy. She remembered his favorite flower.

“Molly,” his voice sounds thick, but it catches her attention and she turns to look at him. He locks his eyes with hers, “This is wonderful. I love it.”

Her eyes look wet, but are smiling as lovely as her mouth is. She whispers, “I’m glad, Toby.”

**Author's Note:**

> When I was playing Animal Parade again a little while ago and saw Toby's little line about how he used to sneak out at night it prompted me to write this little blurb.  
> I love Toby, he is the cutest. And he fishes. Love.  
> Thanks to my sibling for proof reading! The additional tags are based on what my sister said about this story, haha.


End file.
